


It's all Greek to me

by Morrowyn



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrowyn/pseuds/Morrowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You are a very strange mortal."<br/>"So you've said."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There is no biological reason for sleep, as the bodily processes of most multicellular organisms are largely self sustaining. Psychologically, sleep is a refuge, a safe house of sorts where the unconscious mind can analyze and categorize the day’s happenings free of external stimuli. Things that occur during sleep - dreams, nightmares, premonitions -, can all be allotted to the sentient mind’s way of coping with and preparing for strenuous circumstances, namely combat, emotional trauma, and death.

* * *

 

I made a slight noise in the back of my throat as the pain behind my bloodshot eyes faded into a nagging buzz in the back of my mind, my eyelids rising leadenly from their stupor as adrenaline pumped false energy into my body. I stood slowly, the lethargy sluggishly leaving my legs as I forced myself onto my feet, my fight-or-flight response quarrelling almost audibly with itself as I groggily took notice of my surroundings, momentarily confused the the metal corridor I found myself standing in. My mind worked quickly, easily bringing relevant memories forward from the ever  present fog of sleep.

Epaphroditos had somehow managed to get aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, had then gotten _caught_ aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, and was now being held somewhere on board. My cousin, Thane, and I had come at the behest of his mother to mystically extricate him from the mess he’d made. I stretched as my mind ran itself in circles trying to ascertain just why in the Underworld I had fallen asleep in a hallway. Blinking sleepily, I reached into my pyjama pocket and pulled out my cell phone, absent mindedly checking the time.

_Damn, only a ten minute nap._

In retrospect, I suppose going to sleep while on lookout was probably a bad idea, but, hey, it hadn’t been mine. Putting someone with my somnic needs in a position of such responsibility _can_ be fatal.

I felt Thane before I heard him, his solemnity calming my frantic thoughts. **I found him; he’s being held on the main deck. Careful, there’s a guard.**

Disgruntled as always by mind to mind contact, I mentally mapped out the quickest route to the deck, stuffing both hands into my pockets as I waited for Thane to join me. Just then, the sound of heavy boots rang out against to metal floor ahead of me, and I immediately fell into a defensive crouch, all grogginess gone from my mind and body. Hastily, I scanned the walls on either side of me for a quick escape route.

“Kimon, over here!”

I instinctively turned in the direction of the urgent whisper, sliding into a side passage where my cousin’s tense form was leaning against the wall, listening. Thane was quite a bit older than me- and thus in charge of our little operation-, and it showed; frown lines etched themselves deep into the corners of his hazel eyes and were made only deeper by the eternal furrow of his brow. We had the same nose, long and straight, and the same pointed chin, but that was where the family resemblance ended. Thane’s hair was a thick, curling black, no doubt inherited from his Arabian mother, just like his gorgeous bronze tan, where as mine was a pale, soft blonde that only served to wash out my already pale face. Where Thane was tall and slender, I was rather short and on the plumper side of things. Honestly, the only way anyone would be able to tell we were related would be if they stuck around long enough to notice the similarities between our mannerisms and speech patterns. Despite having grown up on opposite sides of the globe, we were actually eerily alike. The things you inherit.

Glancing at Thane and finding him creepy engrossed in listening to the footsteps of strangers, I bit my knuckle, not quite stifling a yawn. He glared at me over his shoulder, and I rolled my eyes, rubbing my face against the soft felt of my pj’s collar. Half a moment later, and Thane was standing calmly beside me, all the tension gone from his body.

“They’re gone; let’s go.” Eyes ahead, he took cues from my mental map, and led the way to a service elevator that would take us up to the main deck without having to worry about unwanted passengers. Problem was, we needed a pass code.

Thane stepped up to the terminal and punched in a seemingly random string of numbers and I watched in mild awe as the elevator doors opened without a hitch.

“Nice,” I drawled, and was rewarded with a small smile as the doors closed behind us.

S.H.I.E.L.D. uses elevator music.

As the floor indicator dinged with each floor -I vaguely wondered how many floors the airship could realistically house-, I found myself yawning uncontrollably. A large hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up into Thane’s apologetic gaze.

I shrugged off his unspoken sorry and smiled up at him, “It’s no biggie; I’ll just have ‘Epic-Fritos’ buy me a bunch of pillows or something.” Thane looked skeptical, but, thankfully, didn’t persist. Besides, the door had opened.

* * *

 

I silently thanked the fates that the elevator refrained from dinging as Thane swiftly pulled me along behind him, casting his gaze about for anyone or anything that might alert the helicarrier personnel to our presence. After creeping around on our knees behind the Star-Trek-esque terminals, we finally found ourselves at an angle from which we could see Epaphroditos looking like a mouse in a trap with his myriad of guards.

 **We will need a distraction** , Thane mused telepathically, and I tiredly scanned the room for suitable victims. My gaze settled on two men sitting at opposite ends of the main floor, pretty close to the big ass observation window that made up the helicarrier’s frontal hull; if I used them, then the soldiers would have to split up, taking their infernal weapons with them. Steadying myself against Thane’s shoulder, I cautiously sent tendrils of my consciousness out first to one, then the other, of my targets, scouring their minds for any feelings of fatigue or over work. Once I’d found what I was looking for, I amplified those feelings first by two, then four, gradually turning the dial until, one after the other, they fell into a deep sleep.

Almost immediately the entire helicarrier listed dangerously to one side. _Damnit, were they the pilots, or something?_ Sirens began blazing all over the airship, red lights flashing at measured intervals all around the deck. Beside me, Thane cursed and made a mad dash for Epaphroditos, no doubt planning on using the chaos I’d created as cover. He met no opposition, as my not quite so ingenious plan had been surprisingly effective, and rather unceremoniously dragged the tall blond over to where I waited. Upon seeing me, Epaphroditos smiled widely, his blue eyes laughing and his chin dimple evident.

“Hey, Ki! Just couldn’t stay away could you? Wait, are you in your pyjamas?” His English accent was even thicker than I remembered.

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “It’s not _my_ fault your mom called in the middle of the night.” He had the decency to look sheepish, his Adonis curls bouncing as he lowered his head in exaggerated shame. I rolled my eyes again, “How’d you get in here, anyway?”

He looked as though he would answer, but Thane cut him off. “We need to leave before this thing hits ground,” he gave me a pointed look before turning back to Epaphroditos. “Can you open a door to Olympus?”

My fellow blond blanched, shaking his head. “If I could do that, I wouldn’t be here.” Thane growled in exasperation before looking to me expectantly. I groaned, drawing glyphs in the air, the letters arranging themselves in a circular pattern.

”I hope the Underworld’s good enough for you, Epic-Fritos,” he scowled at my nickname, but nodded.

“Anywhere’s better than here, but hurry; the one-eyed one won’t be occupied for long.”

Thane looked at him incredulously. “His ship is falling from the sky!”

Epaphroditos shrugged as he cast a look over his shoulder. “What can I say? Fury has some twisted priorities.”

The last glyph settled into place in the air beside us, and the enclosed circle began to glow.

“Damn, Kimon, can you _get_ any flashier?”

I glared at Epaphroditos venomously. “Just go, you stupid brat.” He stuck out his tongue at me, his piercing peeking out at me from beneath his top lip before he did just that. Thane cast me a worried look, but I waved away his concern. “Go on; I have to close it, anyway.”

Just then, a deep voice bearing more authority than Poseidon at sea overcame the noise of the sirens and the panicked yells of footsoldiers.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

I turned and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun. Following it up to its wielder, I felt solid terror the likes of which my brother, Phobetos, could not inflict -although Morpheus came close- settle in the pit of my stomach. Director Nick Fury looked down at me with his one eye, suspicion heavy in his gaze. One glance reassured me that Thane was already through the portal, and so, sparing the Director a defiant glare, I closed it. Fury’s eye narrowed and he cocked his gun.

“Where did you send them?” he asked, his words clipped and harsh.

I sighed and stood, one finger scratching absently at the side of my face as I sleepily took stock of my situation. Thane was a lawyer, so he could probably get me out of this; that is, if Persephone let him live. Sighing in resignation, I started talking even as I sought the minds of the slumbering pilots.

“I sent them home.”

Fury’s eyebrow twitched. “How did you get on my ship?”

“I used a portal.” Not one of mine, but he didn’t need to know that. I could feel Fury’s frustration rising through my empathy, and I knew he wouldn’t deal with my evasiveness for much longer.

“Who are you?” his voice was strained, and I hastened to appease him.

“My name is Alexandria Panagolopolous, although most call me Kimon,” I added hastily as his suspicion rose. I tilted my head, having found the minds of the pilots. “I’d rather you called me Alexandria.” I pulled the pilots from their unconsciousness.

“Well, _Alexandria,_ where did you send them?”

Damn, I’d made him really angry.

I cleared my throat. “I really can’t say, sir.”

Fury looked at me for a long moment, his gun still cocked and aimed at my head. I was still crouched beside the computer terminal, and finally noticed that the sirens had stopped and the helicarrier had ended its dangerous decline.

“Fine.” Fury lowered his weapon, “But you’re coming with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, eyeing the heavy duty handcuffs I was wearing steadily. Shortly after being taken into custody- that sounds so much better than arrested-, I was thrown into a room with reflective walls; one of which was no doubt a two-way mirror. My interrogator, a tall short haired brunette, was standing in a corner, one hand to her earpiece as she took advice from someone on the other end. Her lack of subtlety surprised me; it certainly wasn't how it was done in the movies. Taking advantage of her turned back, I snuck my hands underneath the table they'd seated me at, drawing a glyph with a satisfied smile as its purple light faded. At the very least I had a way out.

The woman turned to me, coming out of her corner and standing just close enough for someone to wonder whether or not we were together at a party but too far away to say we were next to each other. She didn't take the seat that had been set opposite me.

"Miss Panagopoulos," I winced as she butchered my name. "You stand accused of trespassing on military property and attempting to abscond with it."

I snorted;  _abscond_ , really?

"How do you plead?" she continued, her expression carefully stoic. I rolled my eyes. Did she honestly think I'd plead guilty to something as bogus as that? Yes, I was  _technically_ trespassing, but who in their right mind would actually try and steal a  _helicarrier_ of all things?

**And** **_you're_ ** **in your right mind?**

I stiffened at the sound of my brother's voice in my head, sarcasm dripping from his words. Frightened by what his presence meant, I leapt to my feet, startling my questioner into pulling out her gun and aiming it at a point between my eyes.

"I-I need to use the restroom!" I blurted, inwardly kicking myself for such a stupid excuse. The woman didn't lower her gun, but did glance at something behind me-aha! Two way mirror located!-and licked her lip nervously.

 **Why are you just sitting around like this?**  My brother asked,  **And use my name damnit!**

I cringed visibly; so he'd noticed. Morpheus, the second oldest of my myriad of brothers, had been my self-proclaimed tormentor since the day my abilities manifested, plaguing my mind with insidious dreams that made me loathe my body's inherent lack of energy.

"Please," I begged, the desperation in my voice leaving a sour taste in my mouth. "I need to get out of here!"

Suddenly, my brother's mischievous presence was booted from my mind, replaced by a calm, dignified voice with a light accent.

**Calm yourself, child. No one will hurt you here.**

I tensed, worried by the sudden intrusion of a stranger; were my defenses really that weak?

That would certainly explain how Morpheus kept getting past them.

 **Dude, who was that?**  My brother asked, and I sighed in relief; better the devil you know and all that.

Belatedly, I realized I'd been standing with a gun in my face for maybe two full minutes. Damn, but I must seem very confusing to the poor woman. Shamefaced, I sat back down heavily, seriously contemplating just ditching the whole fiasco instead of waiting for Thane to rescue me like I'd originally planned. The door opened, and I forced my face into a nonchalant expression, unwilling to reveal my panic to anyone who hadn't already seen it. My efforts were futile, of course, as the telepath who'd invaded my mind just moments ago entered the room. He was a tall man who, though confined to a wheelchair, still managed to look imposing. He had no hair, but appeared dignified rather than decrepit like most other bald men I knew-*cough* Hephaestus *cough*- and his blue eyes held great wisdom for someone so young.

He raised an eyebrow. "I would hardly count myself young; one might wonder what your standard is."

Shit. Gotta keep this simple. "Compare to mother Gaia, all beings are naught but children." There, not only had I told the truth, but I'd also managed to successfully portray myself as a new age hippie.

The telepath smiled- fuck, I'm so fucked- and somehow propelled himself forward- shit, he's a telekinetic, too-, stopping just beside the woman. I'd forgotten about her; again.

"Thank you, Jill, you may leave us."

She saluted, "Yes, Professor."

**How much you wanna bet she's got a brother named Jack?**

Ignoring my brother's obnoxious comment, I met the Professor's gaze. For some reason, he was becoming more and more familiar.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, snapping my fingers as I remembered where I'd seen this particular telepath before."You're the mutant guy! I saw you in the paper once." Professor Charles Xavier smiled indulgently, and only after several minutes did I realize just how racist I'd sounded. "Ah, not that anything's wrong with being a mutant! I mean, my mom's a mutant, so-", I stopped myself before I made an even greater fool of myself, head hung in heartfelt shame.

Xavier chuckled. "It's quite alright, child. In fact, it's because of your mother's mutation that I was called in. You  _did_ know she was registered with the MRD?" He looked at me expectantly and I cringed internally.

'Yes, sir, I did."

"And am I correct in assuming that you are a mutant, as well?"

I blanched; that was a difficult question for someone like me to answer. I could say yes, and be called out by the telepathic mastermind for lying. But if I said no...Inhaling deeply, I opened my mouth, completely prepared to be struck down by Zeus' lightning bolt.

"I'm not a mutant." I heard myself say, and I shrunk in my seat.

"Are you not?" he asked indulgently, no doubt assuming I was a closet mutant who was ashamed of my mutation. "How else could you have opened that portal or maintained telepathic communications."

I pursed my lips. "The telepathy is a side effect of the genetic similarities between my siblings and myself; we all have it."

The Professor raised an eyebrow, "And the portal?"

Damn.

"Divine intervention," I answered, a bit too quickly, I hoped, to be taken seriously.

Xavier's eyebrow rose even higher. "Really? By which God?"

"Skatá! Like I know!" I yelled in exasperation, "Geeze, why do  _you_  want to know, anyway?"

"Because you have some interesting abilities,  _Alexandria_ ," I looked up behind the Professor and slumped even further as I recognized Director Fury. "Abilities," he continued, "that no other mutant can even emulate."

Shit. Now what? I could try and get out of here with a portal- but with my hands bound I couldn't possibly close it fast enough to prevent Fury from following-, or I could tell the truth and ultimately subject my people to the same animosity Thor had the Asgardians when he'd revealed  _their_  existence.

Which to choose, which to choose?

"I get the portals from my father." I mumbled, hoping to all the Gods that their interest would be peaked long enough to let my runes fall into place.

Fury looked on stoically. "So your father is a mutant, too?"

"No, he's not a mutant." I answered evasively, hastily scrawling little purple letters with my index finger.

"Interesting," Xavier his fingers together pensively. "You mentioned a father, but, having sampled your DNA, we know you are genetically identical to your mother, with only slight variations in the mutations on your X genes."

"What?" I exclaimed, genuinely outraged. "Don't you need my permission for that?"

The professor cast a glance at Fury. "I'd assumed we had it."

Finishing off the last rune, I smiled at the Directo. "You know S.H.I.E.L.D., always breaking the rules." Yes! Awesome finish. That said, I activated the runes surrounding my chair, but instead of falling into the welcome abyss of Tartarus, a horrible scream filled my ears. It was only after I'd lost consciousness that I realized it had been mine.


	3. Chapter 3

Sleep is my natural state. Even my name, Kimon, means “to sleep” in Greek. Undisturbed, I can sleep for months at a time; yet another trait inherited from my illustrious father. This, while unhealthy and possibly fatal for normal humans, serves to stimulate my bodily processes, quite literally aging me until all physical and mental trauma have been dealt with. It’s really quite useful, especially since I have an older brother who insists on making my life a waking nightmare.

While asleep, I am completely aware of the passage of time, thus making the transition from comatose to alert that much smoother. When I awoke this time, I was disoriented, nausea roiling my stomach and blotting my eyesight. Even my normally bustling thoughts were still, The ringing in my ears drowning out any thought or sound. Relying on my hands and bare feet, I slowly stood, leaning heavily on a glass wall. My hazy eyesight found me enclosed in a circular room, the floor and walls transparent. The cuffs were off, but I did not have the energy to draw even a simple communication glyph. Just what the hell happened to me?

“I see you’re awake.”

I didn’t turn my head or acknowledge the voice in any way - I was too nauseous to move. My mind was still reeling, my memories scattered across the dreamscape.

Another voice, deeper and more cultured than the first, reached my ears.

“This _child_ caused such a ruckus? One would assume that S.H.I.E.L.D. is capable of handling one so small.”

“She helped a fugitive escape. Helped him, Asgardian, by opening a portal to a place where a tracking signal strong enough to see from the moon has gone silent.”

I turned around at that, my hair creating a golden haze between us. Fury was there, standing beside an overly tall man with hair a shade or two darker than mine.

“What are you suggesting?” He scoffed. “That this _mortal_ opened a door to another plain?” The disbelief in his voice was almost insulting.

“Don’t be fooled. Xavier tells me she is highly intelligent, this could be an act.”

This time I was the one who scoffed. “Not likely.” I cringed at how hoarse my voice was before sliding to my knees, the glass floor clinking beneath me. “What is this thing?”

Fury glared at me - I was beginning to suspect that was his default expression - while his companion’s expression grew serious.

“It’s a prison,” I continued, answering my own question. “For something big...” I met Fury’s gaze. “The Hulk?” I smiled shakily as his glare intensified. “I’m right aren’t I?” Neither of them answered me, and I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift.

There was a certain... _feeling_ in the air here, a sadness and a...desperation the likes of which I’d never felt before, not even in my most chronic patients. Tears of frustration welled behind my eyelids, and would have fallen if not for the immense pride that accompanied them.

“How do you know this, mortal?”

I brushed my hair aside before meeting the tall stranger’s eyes. “You didn’t put the Hulk in here, did you?”

His blue eyes widened and his fists clenched at his sides, and I was finally able to tap into my empathy to get a read on him. What I found was incredibly contrary to my expectations. Pain, raw and potent, radiated from him and, with it, a deep sense of guilt and responsibility.

“I begin to see,” he said to Fury through clenched teeth. “Why you called me here.” He met my gaze stonily. “She is dangerous.”

* * *

 

Fury and his friend had left me alone a few hours past, and I had spent the time staring at my hands. They were no longer bound, but I had yet to muster the courage to try drawing a glyph. Morpheus hadn't returned yet, thank Gaia, but his silence wasn't exactly comforting. I clenched my fists. Standing, I braced myself as I drew a single letter with a shaking finger. It hung in the air a moment before fading away, leaving only a slight impression where its light had burned my eyes. Sighing in relief, I slumped against the glass and began writing in my native Greek, complaining to myself about the decisions of the Fates, knowing full well the old hags could see me doing it.

After a while, I heard the breathy exhale of a door opening, and my hand paused mid word. Glancing over, I sighed as Fury marched toward my prison, a livid expression on his face. Behind him was a woman with curly red hair and a painfully tortured soul. I quickly shut off my empathy before I grew too emotional.

“What were you doing?” Fury demanded, his brows drawn down into a scowl.

“Writing.”

“Writing what?” He snapped.

“A diary entry!” I returned. “Why? Don’t you read Greek?”

I began grumbling to myself. Technically I could just open a portal and leave all this trouble behind. Of course, this may spurr them to use whatever heinous secret the glass prison held.

Which to choose, which to choose?

“Fury,” I looked up as the blonde giant approached the director, nodding to the woman familiarly. “I do not think antagonizing her is the wisest course of action.” He turned to me, his expression serious. “Woman-.”

“Alexandria.”

He continued on as if I hadn’t spoken. “My father has agreed to hold you on our lands under my authority as an Avenger. Do you accept?”

I sat there for a moment, not quite comprehending what he’d said. Then it hit me.

“Holy shit, you’re Thor.”

His eyes widened and he regarded me strangely. “Well, yes, I am.”

My attention drew inward, my panicked mind actually calling out to any and all of my siblings as I assessed my situation. It I went to Asgard, which was definitely where Thor was referring to, then there was no guarantee that my portals would work, as I needed to know my destination’s location relative to the place I was leaving, and if I couldn’t return to the Underworld-.

**Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.**

All tension flowed from my body as Phobetos’ deep voice resonated in my mind. The oldest and most responsible of my siblings, having him in charge gave me the confidence to meet Thor's gaze and say, “Yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

I sighed as my wrist chafed against the cuffs for a second time, Thor’s grip on my upper arm tightening as I adjusted their position.

“Please, Lady Alexandria, you must keep still,” he whispered harshly, his blue eyes searching the sky.

I snorted, barely resisting the urge to scratch my nose.

While I waited, I looked around subtly, taking in the heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents standing a “safe distance” away. For some reason, we'd been brought to the middle of the Arizona desert, large swirly-whirly patterns burnt into the sand beneath us. When I’d asked where we were, all the minds around me had become guarded.

_Top secret stuff, awesome!_

Thor’s large hand shifted on my arm and I looked up at him; his expression had grown more intense during my musings.

“Heimdall comes.”

I looked expectantly to the sky, but saw nothing but the same overcast gloom that had been there since our arrival. Then, slowly, _super_ slowly, the clouds began to move, wrapping themselves around a barely visible blue light. Feelings of awe reached me from the S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives and I scoffed. Suddenly, Thor began spinning his hammer by the leather strap attached to its hilt.

“What are you-!”, I began, only to be cut off by a sudden collision with a solid wall of wind as Thor launched himself, and, by extension, me, into the air with the momentum of his hammer, his grip on my shifting to support my waist and, I would assume, not tear off my limb. I’d never gone bungee jumping, or skydiving, or even rock climbing; nothing in my past experience had prepared me for flying through the air toward a swirling black hole in the arms of a god. I _had_ , however, stood in the presence of literal giants, kings whose reigns spanned hundreds of thousands of years. Hopefully, this would help keep me from being too intimidated by the gods of a warrior race.

* * *

 

I looked around me, the familiar black marble walls and graphic statues of the Underworld beckoning to my mind, promising a false sense of security. Too bad for me, I recognized a dream when I saw one. It wasn’t hard, there weren’t many place I woke up _standing_ in an off white Chiton. Sighing, I followed the path that led deeper into Hades, the capital of the Underworld, not entirely certain which brother had procured this dream; although the abnormally deep shadows at the edges of my vision gave me a pretty good idea.

Sure enough, as I walked along, Phobetos materialized beside me, his straight black hair falling loosely about his pale face as his dark eyes regarded me solemnly.

Stopping, I smiled up at him. “Hello, brother.’

Phobetos nodded to me, the worry lines easing from his face as he spoke, his deep voice and heavy accent comforting. “I am glad _I_ was the one to reach you; this will be your last dream for a while.” I nodded - it made sense that the Asgardian gods of dreams might not be able to reach my mind.

“You’ll need to return to the Underworld before it gets too late in the season,” he continued. “I’ll try and extradite you before then, but I may have to ask for help.”

I held his large, cold, calloused hand between mine. “Thank you, Phoby. I really appreciate it.”

My eldest brother smiled down at me, his other hand cupping my face, long fingers twining through my hair.

“Of course, Sister.”

* * *

 

A slight jostling broke my inner peace, and I opened my eyes to find myself in the arms of someone I’m sure I’d met before, his armor cold against my cheek. Sensing my gaze upon him, he looked down, his blue eyes rife with concern.

“Ah, Lady Alexandria, I am glad to see that you are alright. I had worried that the force of entering Asgard without the Bifrost to temper it would be too much for your mortal frame.”

I blinked sleepily, his kind smile, meant to reassure, instead sending a sense of dread down my throat to the pit of my stomach. His steps sounded heavily against the floor, but I could still make out hushed conversations on either side of us, the words indecipherable but obviously curious. And who could blame them? Here I was, a stranger in the arms of one of their own - Thor, I remembered -, of course they’d be interested.

“You can put me down,” I said quietly, moving my shoulder into a more comfortable position. “I’m fine now.”

He looked skeptical but obliged. The floor was cold beneath my feet, one of which had fallen asleep. Thor replaced his grip on my arm and pulled me along as he had done before. It wouldn’t surprise me to find a hand shaped bruise there, later.

“Heimdall bids you welcome,” he said over his shoulder. “You were asleep when we arrived.”

It struck me rather suddenly that I was no longer on Earth, that the bustling emotions around me weren’t human, but Asgardian. I immediately turned to look at the fabled realm of Odin, my mouth falling open in awe as I took it all in. Asgard was surprisingly futuristic, with high rising buildings and flying vehicles, but it kept to the traditional idea I’d formed in my head with its fashions and architecture. Women with their blonde hair done up in elaborate braids whispered behind their hands as Thor dragged me past, and I self consciously stopped my gawking. I was lead into an open hall, tall columns holding up a high, vaulted ceiling. Soldiers in fancy armor stood at stiff attention, following us with their eyes as we approached the other side of the room where a high dais was topped by a wide, gilded throne. On it sat an old man with a full beard and a golden eyepatch who could only be Thor’s father, Odin son of Bor, the king who’d unified the realms of Yggdrasil under one flag. He wasn’t as big as the tales made him out to be.

“So, you are the mortal that my son so worried.” His voice was not as deep as I’d imagined it, but it carried all the command a king’s voice should. “I thought you’d be bigger."

Well, then.

I bowed my head respectfully. “Sorry to disappoint, your majesty.”

Odin laughed, a harsh, barking sound. “Such cheek. Tell me, child, what was your crime?”

I glanced up at Thor, but he kept his gaze on his father.

“I was rescuing my nephew.” He raised an eyebrow, and I looked down sheepishly. “I _may_ have also trespassed on private military property... _and_ endangered the lives of hundreds of people - completely by accident, mind you!” I added, holding my shackled hands up defensively. “I fixed it, I swear.”

“Did you now?” His expression hadn’t changed, but there was laughter in his words. “I hardly see how this is enough to condemn you to imprisonment on another world.”

“This woman can learn a man’s secrets simply by standing in his presence, father,” Thor cut in. “I have seen her do it.”

Technically, he’d only seen me read the residual emotions everyone left when in one place too long. I didn’t correct him.

Odin’s expression grew grave. “It that so?”

I sighed, rolling my shoulders as I mulled over my answer. “Yes, I can.”

Odin stood, grim faced, leaning heavily on his spear as he spoke. “If you have this ability, what’s to stop you from using it?”

“The same thing that’s stopping you from running me through.” I replied calmly, secretly insulted. My mother raised me better than that, thank you very much!

The throne room filled with a deliberating silence, and Thor relaxed beside me. The king of Asgard smiled.

“Take her to her cell.”


	5. Chapter 5

I was escorted by one of the fancy soldiers from the throne room, his expression stony. He led me down a flight of stairs and into a hallway lined with glowing windows. Wait, no, they weren’t windows, but white walled prison cells, their brightly illuminated interiors visible through a transparent fourth wall. Creatures of different sizes and ethnicities sat inside them, their dirty clothing in stark contrast to their sterile surroundings. Another guard approached and saluted my escort, and I was handed over roughly. The shimmery wall of one cell dissipated and I was shoved through. By the time I’d turned around, the force field was back in place and the soldiers had left. I sat heavily on the cold white floor, holding my head in my hands as I assessed my situation.

I was in a cell by myself, so I could probably do away with normal prison worries, but that left little to occupy my mind aside from my impending doom. Morpheus would never let me hear the end of it. Sighing in frustration, I looked out into the hall and was surprised to see the person in the cell across from mine staring at me curiously. At first, I assumed he was human, possibly a member of the Greek court, but his style of dress and the furnishings in his cell changed my mind.

“You must’ve done something _really_  bad if Asgardians are locking up their own.” I called across the way, my tone cordial. I felt the slightest stirrings of mirth from him, even with my empathy at its “lowest setting”. So, he was one of those rare individuals who felt with every fiber of their beings. Cool.

“I could say the same of you,” he called back, his voice low and cultured. “It is not often a mortal is granted such treatment.”

Touché.

“My name’s Alexandria, sleep therapist.”

He smirked. “And I am Loki.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “The god of fire?”

He seemed shocked at my association, if a bit pleased.

“Among other things,” he confirmed.

I smiled widely, “Is it true what the legends say? That Fenrir is your son?”

His smile grew, “What nonsense is that?”

I shrugged. “That’s what’s written.”

He snorted in derision, “Such foolishness.”

_Well, Zeus’ kid is a Minotaur, so it isn’t that far-fetched._

He leaned against the wall of his cell, his dark hair standing out against the stark white. “So tell me, what brings you to Asgard?”

I shrugged again. “I’m not really sure; I kind of fell asleep on the way.”

Loki chuckled dryly, his tone incredulous. “You are a strange mortal.”

I snorted. “Better that than normal.”

He nodded, conceding the point, and we fell into a comfortable silence.

 

* * *

 

I glared at my plate, the cold piece of meat radiating with fear and pain. Whatever animal it had come from, it had not gone down quickly.

“I have noticed,” Loki began, turning a page in his book. “That you never eat your meat. Why is that? I was under the impression that humans ate much as we do.”

I smiled grimly, pushing the offending bit of protein away. “We do, but if I can make the choice not to eat it, then I won’t.”

He nodded and went back to his book, lounging comfortably in his chair.

The lucky bastard.

A week in Asgard and I already knew their plan for me. Surely they wanted me to die of boredom. It made perfect sense. The white walls of my cell were beginning to close in on me, and my only “friend” did nothing but laugh from his comfy seat.

I sprawled across the floor, my hair sticking to my face.

“I’m so fucking bored!”

My outburst was rewarded with a full bodied laugh from across the way.

“You are the oddest human I have ever had the pleasure of being in prison with.”

“I’m the _only_  human you’ve been in prison with, Mr. Lonely.”

He raised his eyebrows at me, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Is that the best you could come up with?”

“Shut up.”

We fell into silence, as was our wont, the only sounds the occasional conversation from the other cells.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re in here,” I said after a while, not really expecting an answer, as he usually ignored either me or the question, so I was very surprised when he said, rather nonchalantly,

“I tried to take over Midgard and destroyed New York in the process.”

I gaped at him as he turned another page in his book. “That was you? Dayum, that’s amazing!”

He looked up at me, bemused. “You would be the first to say so.”

“Pfft, like it matters when everyone’s thinking it.” I rolled over and propped my head on my palms. “So what made you decide to take over the world all of a sudden?”

His almost smile grew wistful. “Nothing in particular.”

I let my face fall into expressionlessness, shouting, “Boring!” as I rolled onto my back again. I heard his wry chuckle and smiled to myself.

If nothing else, I had a corner in comedy.

Someone banged against my cell’s force field, and I wasn’t all that surprised to see Thor towering over me as usual.

“Lady Alexandria, your kin request an audience with you.”

“Is it Thane?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

Thor shook his head, sluggishly confused. “No, milady. She claims to be your mother, though, I must confess, I see little resemblance.”

“Cool, so am I going to her, or -.”

“I have been brought to you.”

Thor and I turned to face the tall woman in black as she made her way out of the shadows of the staircase. I felt a sudden swell of curiosity, and I was mildly pleased to see Loki had finally put down his book.

Persephone had that effect on people.

She ran one greyish hand through her white hair, left down instead of in its usual ebony headdress, looking Thor up and down with her honey gold eyes before dismissing him.

“Kimon, my child, how have you been? Have these _barbarians_  treated you well?”

I resisted the urge to laugh, a sentiment Loki shared, as Thor bristled.

“My lady,” he said, his normally boisterous tone harsh and clipped. “We have afforded your daughter the same care my _brother_  received during the beginning of _his_  incarceration.”

Persephone sniffed disdainfully.

“Olympians have higher standards, surely. Is there anything you need, my poor darling?”

I glanced between Thor, who was bathing in barely restrained insult, and Loki, whose careful mask did nothing to hide his curiosity from me.

“I guess,” I began, turning back to my Queen and friend. “I _could_  use a book or two, you know, to keep the boredom at bay.”

She placed one long fingered hand over her heart, scandalized.

“Of course! I cannot believe they would deny you this!”

“We would not have!” Thor snapped. “Had she but asked-.”

Persephone wasn’t listening.

“I shall consult your brother for suitable material, oh! and Hades sends you this.” She flicked her wrist and a large wardrobe materialized against the far wall of my cell, the stylized wood familiar. A bed followed, aligning itself against a corner. “Perhaps now may enter the dreamscape.”

“My lady,” Thor interjected. “We would have provided her this much in due time.”

Persephone rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it would have, but would you deny a king the right to dote on his only child?” She turned back to me, pointedly ignoring Thor’s blubbering. “If you need _anything_ , don’t hesitate to call.”

And then she vanished in a puff of smoke. Always one for theatrics, Persephone.

Thor, panicked over losing his charge, ran from the dungeons, yelling all the way. It was all so comical, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Across the hall, Loki clapped, patronizingly slow.

“Wonderful,” he drolled. “Now he’ll double security and we’ll never get a moment’s peace.”

I shrugged smiling. “Sorry about that; Persephone tends to get a little carried away when I’m involved.”

He snorted softly. “I take it you’re not _actually_  her daughter, then?”

“Of course, not.” I sat on the edge of my new bed. “She and her husband don’t have any kids of their own, so I just fill the void.”

He smiled his half smile, his green eyes glittering, but I wasn’t fooled. The despondent jealousy he gave off was so potent it nearly smothered me. I gasped for air, slamming a dam down on the empathic connection I’d developed with him over the past week, stopping the flow of emotions. How he could feel so empty inside while keeping up his happy facade. Hell, I didn’t want to know.

“Did you hear me?”

I looked up, meeting Loki’s unreadable gaze. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked you why she called you by a different name.”

“Oh, that,” I pressed a hand to my temple in the hopes of clearing my mind. “Kimon is the name my brothers gave me. The rest of my family just started using it.”

“What does it mean?”

I chuckled. “Sleepyhead.”

His smile widened marginally, and I tentatively reopened the bridge between us, glad to find my almost friend was calmer now but still concerned over his abrupt mood swing. Loki was known for his madness, but I had brushed that aside as just another misinterpretation of his character. It would really suck if he turned out to be bipolar in godly proportions.


	6. Chapter 6

When I opened my eyes after close to a week of sleep, I found myself thoroughly confused. Instead of the four cornered cell I had grown accustomed to, I was in the round alcove I stayed in when visiting the Underworld, the black marble walls arching gracefully into a high, domed ceiling. Golden smoke curled around the edges of my vision, and I smiled.

“Oikiakós, I know you’re there.”

My brother walked into the room as a normal person would, through the door. His short cropped golden hair caught light from an undeterminable source as he approached, arms spread wide. I walked into the hug and returned it warmly.

“Oikiakós,” I began. “What are you doing in Asgard?”

His wide smile dropped some, and the warmth of the room was abruptly replaced by bitter cold, the black walls around us cracking with urgent decay. The floor was suddenly damp and filthy beneath my bare feet, and I looked around in shock.

“Is this what you think Asgard looks like?” I asked him, and he nodded angrily. “No, brother, I most certainly have not been imprisoned in such deplorable conditions. The Asgardians have more pride than that.”

**But we were told-**

“By who? I know Persephone called them barbarians, but she, of all people, would appreciate their architecture.”

Oikiakós’ brow creased into as much of a frown as I’d ever seen him wear.

**I can’t remember. It’s...just gone.**

That didn’t sound good.

“How did you guys set up a compatible dreamscape? Asgard’s dream god guards hers viciously.” I’d checked.

**One of the _Three_ is maintaining it. I’m not sure which.**

“I guess I’ll go talk to them. How many do you have in your net?”

 **Just the others in the dungeons; they long for home, and I give it to them. Although,** he added, cocking his head. **There is one who was excluded from the dreamscape. I could not reach him.**

“I’ll check on the guy; make sure he isn’t freaking out.”

My brother caught my arm as I made to leave his dreamnet and walk the dreamscape itself.

**Be careful, adelfí. Morpheus has been up to something, and it can’t be anything good.**

“Thanks, Oikiakós. I’ll see you later.”

Using my mind, I pushed myself from his net and stepped down into the dreamscape. It looked just like the world it had been cast over, all the edges blurred and undefined. I was still in my cell, but the force field was gone, and so was Loki. But that was to be expected.

Only those with the knowledge of how to traverse the dreamscape would be seen by others in it. I allowed my dreamsense to activate, and was pleasantly surprised when I couldn’t feel Loki among those caught in Oikiakós’ net.

_I see, so he was the one left out._

I lowered myself out of my cell and crossed the hall, pulling myself up and into Loki’s with some difficulty. He was definitely still inside inside, but his mind was elsewhere, possibly dreaming his own dream. I could have left him alone, but something told me to check on him, make sure he wasn’t privately panicking over all the sleeping people around him. I’d warned him beforehand that I wouldn’t wake up for a while, but I doubt even he would have a reaction catalogued for being the only one awake in all of Asgard.

Then again...

I found the link I’d established with him and followed it into his mind, keeping one figurative foot in the dreamscape, and thus ensuring my quick return.

The inside of Loki’s mind was not at all as I’d expected it to be. Instead of the grande palace and myriad of servants one might expect from a man who sought to take over the world, I found myself in a plain of ash, snow-white flecks falling from a grey, cloudless sky. The only color was in the glaringly illuminated throne in the center of the field, the harsh light of Loki’s dream world eradicating every possible shadow it might have cast. The man himself sat upon it, his iconic horned helmet set aside on one armrest while he leaned on the other. His eyes were dull, his expression artfully resigned.

“Loki!” I called, trudging through the thick layer of accumulated grime. “Loki, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” he replied, leaning back in his golden throne. “Which is odd. I’ve never heard anything here before.” A dismal smile crossed his face. “Perhaps I have grown too used to the silence.”

I stopped in front of him, running a hand absently through my hair. “That’s odd... The same rules should still apply...unless that only works within pantheons...”

The smile left his face. “I see, then you had best keep your distance. The only things that have yet to crumble are you and this throne; and the throne has outlived Asgard.”

I looked at the grey land around us. “This is Agard?”

“It was,” he replied, closing his eyes. “Everything I touched turned to ashes in my hands. Every man, woman and child I approached became dust. Now, the only thing left is this empty chair, and it only has warmth for as long as I am in it.”

Ugh, so he was one of _those_. I’d treated patients like him before, men and women alike who had one unhealthy obsession or another, knew it was damaging, and still let it consume them. Their dreams usually revolved around the object of their desire, either glorifying it or setting it on a lower pedestal than normal. Loki was a rare case, his mind intensifying the path to achieving his dream rather than the dream itself.

It was frightening to see just how far he thought he was willing to go.

Patients like him usually needed either a reality check or encouragement, but Loki wasn’t exactly a middle aged career woman, and nothing in my training had prepared me for dragging a demigod from his self inflicted depression. Gathering my courage, I stomped up to him and grabbed his face between my hands, dragging him down to eye level. We stared at each other for a moment, his gaze startled, mine purposely intense. Then I relaxed, releasing him to look at my hands. Smiling widely, I presented them, spread-fingered.

“Looks like I’m exempt to that rule, too.”

The confusion in his eyes mirrored the emotional feedback I got from him, the first since I’d entered his mind.

“You are a _very_ strange mortal.”

“So you’ve said.” I reached my hand out to him. “I’ve got a couple hundred big brothers to smack around, care to join me?” His brows creased and I smiled suggestively. “Who knows, it might prove good practice.”

He snorted and took my hand, his palm cold against mine.

“Why not? The boredom is killing me."

_Boredom? Bitch, you had books!_

With this thought at the forefront of my mind, I wrenched him from his dream and his wallowing.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I was just wondering if there was anything y'all wanted to see happen in this story. I would really appreciate some feedback. Thank you for taking the time to read this far. :)

It proved more difficult than anticipated to calibrate Loki’s mind to a Grecian dreamscape, but I managed it. He ended up in a classic white chiton, but I managed it.

He looked down at himself in confusion. “What is this?”

“It’s the traditional attire of my people,” I replied, picking self consciously at the hem of my pyjama shirt.

His eyes narrowed. “ _You’re_  not wearing one.”

“Yeah, well,” I cleared my throat nervously. “I was already in... ‘Greek mode’, as it were. I had to recalibrate your dreamsense before bringing you here...” I trailed off, clearing my throat again, unnecessarily.

“You...recalibrated...my mind?”

“Oh, no! Just your dreamsense.”

He nodded, pursing his lips in a way that made his narrow cheekbones stand out.

“And how, exactly, did you do that?”

I’d wondered when he’d get to that.

“Well,” I began. “It’s probably best if I start with the beginning.” I copped a seat in Loki’s wicker chair. “You see, the darkness and the night have a son, a very _l_ _azy_  son who quickly got tired of his job - which was delivering dreams, by the way. So he came to the decision that he needed some children. Now, this man was _sooooooo_  lazy, he couldn’t even be bothered to get them the normal way.” I paused as Loki snorted. “What? It’s true.”

“Let me guess, he had them anyway?”

Smart ass.

“Yep! Through genetic recombination.”

He raised one black eyebrow, and I sighed in exasperation.

“He took aspects of himself and divided them into one thousand sons, each one different from the last.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

I sniffed disdainfully and gestured to the fuzzed out world around us. “One of the oldest three is doing all this.”

He smirked appreciatively before nodding for me to continue.

“For thousands of years, this was enough, and Hypnos - that’s his name - lounged about smoking opium and posing for paintings with his brother. And then,” I paused for effect. “That brother had a son. Now, Hypnos is _so_  apathetic that he didn’t even notice his nephew for the first decade or so. Of course,” I yawned, shifting in Loki’s not-as-comfy-as-it-looked chair. “He couldn’t be left behind, not by his _precious_  brother, and, since his nephew was human born, he began perusing the realms of Gaia.”

“Gaia?”

“Midgard. Anyway, he eventually found a woman, my mother, who suited his needs, as she was a mutant whose abilities ranged from empathy to mind control. Once again, he was too lazy to get jiggy with it, so he made her do all the work, only contributing by guiding my gestation and giving me dreamsense.”

Loki held out a hand in confusion. “Wait, how were you conceived?

“I wasn’t.” At his blank look I sighed. “There’s this thing called Parthenogenesis, which basically means “virgin birth.” It happens sometimes when a woman’s body convinces itself that it’s pregnant when it’s not. My father took advantage of this tendency and literally rearranged my mother while adding his own twist.”

He scoffed. “You expect me to believe that one man had the power to do this?”

I smiled slyly, “My father is not a man, but a god. And _that_ ,” I added as his eyes widened. “Is why I told you my life’s story when you only asked after my powers. I am the child of a god, but I’m also a purebred human, and if I’d said that in the beginning you’d have asked questions and my back story would’ve been told anyway.”

He stared at me for a moment before chuckling. “You’ve done this before, I see.”

“With a couple of my cousins, yeah.”

He snorted. “Interesting.”

“Aren’t I though? Well,” I said, standing. “We’d best be off; my brothers are convinced I’ve been imprisoned in total squalor.”

“And so they’ve launched an invasion?” Loki asked incredulously, falling into step beside me as I lead the way out of the dungeons.

“They’re a _bit_  overprotective.”

“Indeed. So, where is _m_ _y_  brother? Is he enjoying some dream of war and other such frivolity?”

“Beats me, though I could try looking for him if you’d like.”

Loki shook his head. “No, that’s alright. Do you mind telling me how exactly you plan on contacting all of your siblings _before_  Asgard starves to death?”

I scratched the side of my face. Damn him for thinking so far ahead.

“Well, I guess the quickest way to get it done would be to find the one holding up the dreamscape and getting them to broadcast a message to everyone in it, although getting into individual nets might take a while.”

Loki shouldn’t have been familiar with some of that terminology, but he took it all in stride. “And do we know which one it is?”

I sighed. “It can be one of three, only two of which can be reasoned with.”

Loki’s brow creased. “And the third?”

Ugh. “Morpheus takes pleasure in making  my life a living hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one who started the rumor in the first place.”

Loki hummed to himself, his hand coming up to grip his chin pensively. “Of the two that are willing to listen, which is most cooperative?”

That shrewd motherfucker.

“Phobetos, definitely, but this isn’t his kind of thing.”

“So who’s left?”

I sighed heavily. “Phantasos.”

He smiled. “Now why do I get the feeling he’s the most troublesome?”

I chuckled despite myself. “Phantasos brought dreams to the oracles at Delphi. They were known for their ability to interpret dreams and foretell the future.” I added in response to Loki’s confused look. “Of course, only someone high off their ass could ever even hope to understand all the nonsense  Phantasos throws in for the heck of it. That guy is completely insane.”

Loki smiled bitterly. “Like me?”

“ _Y_ _ou_ ,” I snorted. “Are unorthodox. _Phantasos_  has an antler.”

The sound of Loki’s laughter rang out against the walls of the palace, echoing in its emptiness.

“I see now,” he gasped. “Why you were not put off when I said I’d destroyed half of New York.”

I shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, well...”

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. His expression still held some mirth as he said, “Well, we’d best find this horned brother of yours before my ‘father’ realizes Asgard has been invaded.”

Agreed


End file.
